The white sheet fluttered down at the very edge of my vision

I saw it fold neatly in the cross wind and drop into the long, frosted grass of the field bank

In that moment, caught in my passing headlight

To all intents and purposes

It had the appearance of a barn owl

Falling on its prey


CLP 12/02/2020


Following on

From her predecessors

Ciara tore through the land

Downed trees

Drowned rivers

Humbled the best efforts of man

To restrain her fury


She span on

Leaving them to continue their lives



n.b. We recently held a General Election in the UK where the debate was all about trading and political arrangements with our neighbouring countries. Given the destruction one storm can foist on the nation in less than 48 hours it is clear that we have been barking up the wrong downed tree.

CLP 10/02/2020

January Road Trip (XXX)

Earth tumbles off steel

Turned turf rolls over face down

Gulls trawl plough’s soil wake


n.b. After the urgent work of hedge cutting, trimming, mending, it is the time to plough. This is the moment to open the ground to air, rain and frost so the soil can break up, breathe and prepare for sewing and the warmth of spring.

It seems that every field I have passed from Norfolk to Hertfordshire is being worked today. This is the heavy, steady work of the season; rod by rod, acre by acre with the patience of the ploughman.


CLP 30/01/2020